


Under the Mistletoe

by questionableatbest



Category: The 100 (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2904440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionableatbest/pseuds/questionableatbest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An angry, drunk Clarke is at a Christmas party with Bellamy, Finn, and mistletoe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when Clarke found out that Abby turned Jake in? And how she took off her bracelet-transmittor-tracker-thingey? Remember how angry she? I love angry Clarke, so I wrote this! (Admittedly, I may have just been using it as an excuse to vent my displeasure with the holiday season, but that’s beside the point).  
> (I also know it's kind of late to be writing about Christmas, but whatever)  
> (I also might write another chapter, but I haven't decided yet)

Clarke and Octavia were throwing their annual Christmas party, but it had gone on way too long for Clarke's liking.

Maybe she was acting like a Grinch, but she had good reason to be.

Without thinking, Octavia had invited her friend Raven, who had brought her boyfriend Finn. Finn, who had lead Clarke on, started a relationship with her, and slept with her, all without disclosing the fact that he was already in a relationship.

Needless to say, they were no longer on good terms.

But Raven was cool. The two of them had bonded over their shared heartbreak, the only difference being that Raven was able to forgive Finn, while Clarke hadn't spoken to him since she had found out.

Clarke currently found herself in the kitchen opening a new bottle of wine.

Watching Finn and Raven together hurt, and it wasn't exactly like Clarke had a lot of other good things going on in her life, so alcohol was necessary, which is what she told herself as she took a long drink straight from the bottle.

"Wow, plan on sharing, Princess?"

Octavia had mentioned that Bellamy was coming.

Turning around, she was surprised to see that the usual smirk on his face was replaced by a look of concern. That wouldn't do.

"Not tonight. Tonight is not a night for sharing alcohol." She took another large drink to prove her point.

"You really think that's the best way to deal with your problems?" He was standing across the room and hadn't moved closer to her, but the questions he was asking were starting to make her feel claustrophobic.

"What do you know about my problems, Blake? I don't have any problems."

He called her bluff. "Come on, Princess. I've known you forever- I can tell when you're upset, and right now you have every reason to be." She really couldn't argue with that, but she'd be damned if she didn't try.

"I told you, I'm not upset."

"Fine, whatever you say," for a second Clarke thought he was going to change the topic. She was wrong. "Isn't your mom's party tonight?"

That got her to pause. "Is it?"

"Yeah…" Realization dawned on his face. "You weren't invited?"

"Nope. Haven't talked to her in months," she tried, and failed, to sound unaffected.

Now it was Bellamy's turn to pause before he realized that, when it came to Clarke, it was always best to be straightforward. "The fight at the funeral?"

The long drink Clarke took from the bottle answered that question.

"And I thought you just wanted to talk about Finn," she muttered under her breath.

"Finn?"

"The guy I was dating a couple of months back? The one with the other girlfriend? The one in my sitting room with his other girlfriend? O didn't tell you?"

"She doesn't tell me everything, you know. Besides, why would she tell me that?"

"I guess I was still under the impression that you know everything." Sure, insulting him was stupid and childish, but he had no right to come into her apartment, bring up bad memories, and then act like he didn't care about her.

"Right."

And suddenly his old demeanor was back. This was the Bellamy Blake she could handle. The one she fought with, and bickered with, and generally hated. The one who thought she was nothing but a spoiled child, and who barely tolerated her on a good day.

"Well, it's been nice talking to you Blake," she didn't know at what point in their conversation he had moved to stand directly in front of her, but she no longer cared, breezing past him like nothing had ever happened.

The alcohol had long since gone to her head, and could no longer be called a pleasant buzz; rather than making her happy, it acted as a shield, allowing her to block out what she didn't want to face.

Of course, it became impossible to do that when she ran straight into it. Him.

"Clarke," the wistful tone in his voice distracted her, and for a second she was reminded of how easy it was to become lost in his eyes. But only for a second.

And then he was looking up meaningfully, before looking back at her. Following his gaze, she saw what he saw.

Mistletoe.

He smiled at her then, as if to say 'let's do it- for old times' sake,' and the smug, self-satisfied look on his face was what pushed her over the edge.

"Kiss my ass, Finn." There wasn't a trace of emotion in her voice, and she couldn't help but linger just a moment to watch his face fall, before she turned around and ran straight into none other than Bellamy Blake.

Of course.

And of course he had witnessed everything that had just happened.

And of course the concerned look was back on his face.

And of course it was now the two of them who were under the mistletoe.

Ignoring the fact that everybody around them was staring, and ignoring how silent the room had fallen, Clarke grabbed his shirt collar with one hand (wine bottle still in the other), and pulled his face down to hers.

He reacted faster than she thought he would, putting both his hands on her waist and pulling her against him, all while keeping his lips on hers.

And the kiss lasted for ages, or so it seemed.

It was the alcohol, combined with the fact that he really knew what he was doing which left Clarke all but swooning. At least, that's what she told herself.

It had nothing to do with the fact that this was, by far, the most she had felt in months, and that her head was finally clear, and that she momentarily forgot about everything else going on.

And then he pulled away, and Clarke felt something that terrified her.

Desperation?

Longing?

Serenity?

Whatever it was, it was mirrored in Bellamy's eyes and, just for a second, she found herself searching them for answers. But that wouldn't do.

"Merry fucking Christmas," she muttered to herself, shaking her head as she pushed past him, out of the room, and away from everybody.


End file.
